As our story last told, just as Harry was about to drink the Polyjuice Potion with Goyle's hair, Ron and Hermione stopped him.
Harry, confused, lowered the vial. "Sister? Brother? Is there some other instruction?"
The two looked at each other. Hermione spoke. "Harry, it's better if we drink the Crabbe and Goyle potions. They're closer to Malfoy."
Harry was even more confused. "And why can't this one drink it?"
"Oh, Harry, you must understand... even Lady Helena, who died nine hundred years ago, doesn't speak as 'ancient' as you do."
Ron nodded. "Exactly. You'll blow our cover the moment you open your mouth."
Harry slapped his forehead. "Ah! Truly, 'the one in the game is lost, the onlooker sees clear.' If not for your reminder, this one would have exposed us all upon entering the snake's den."
With that, he took the vial with Pansy's hair and downed it. Ron and Hermione drank theirs.
The taste... made Ron and Hermione's faces scrunch up in disgust.
After a moment, they felt their blood vessels roil under their skin, bubbling like boiling soup. Harry looked down and saw his veins writhing, his muscles twitching as if they were alive.
Then, his entire frame seemed to deflator, like a pig's bladder, slowly collapsing inward.
The world spun. He felt himself shrink. The room seemed to grow taller. His robes were suddenly huge and baggy.
When the bubbling stopped, Harry had become Pansy.
"Ha! I knew it! Drinking a potion is nothing compared to being all-natural!" Ron, now as Crabbe, was feeling his new body, smiling. "This muscle can't compare to mine at all."
"Oh, let's not talk about that," Hermione (as Goyle) said, awkwardly pulling at her trousers. "Let's go. Curfew is soon."
The three transfigured their robes from Gryffindor to Slytherin, dragged the real Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle into the closet, and set off.
You must understand, readers: the Gryffindor resting place and the Slytherin den are as different as heaven and earth.
Gryffindor Tower is high in the clouds, its windows taking in the sun, moon, and stars, its door welcoming honor and integrity.
The Slytherin common room, however, is buried deep beneath the Black Lake. Merpeople swim past the walls, and the surroundings are dark and gloomy, a true underwater cavern fit for those of a "cold and yin" (阴寒, yīnhán) nature.
Harry had previously gotten the path, password, and layout of the Slytherin common room from the Bloody Baron (in exchange for three tongue-lashings).
The trio descended into the dungeons. After countless steps, they arrived at a bare stone wall. Harry stopped.
"Basilisk."
The wall rumbled and opened.
"Tsk. 'Basilisk'?" Ron muttered. "These pure-bloods really are obsessed."
Hermione tapped Harry's shoulder. "Harry, from now on, you talk as little as possible. Preferably, not at all."
"Sister, do not worry. This one... I... understand."
They entered the common room, a cavern of strange, greenish stone. Giant windows looked out into the Black Lake, where fish—and the occasional giant squid—danced in the "chaotic revelry" (群魔乱舞, qúnmóluànwǔ) of the water.
Harry looked around, his heart sinking. This place... is full of strange nooks and crannies.
Just then, a voice called out, "What took you so long?"
It was Draco.
He strode over, arms crossed. "You two were eating again, weren't you? I told you, eating too much makes you lose muscle."
Ron hesitated. Hermione (as Goyle) quickly muttered, "No, not today. We were held up by that Scar-head. He told us to... 'watch ourselves.'"
Draco's eyes flashed. "Ha. Let him wait. He'll end up just like that idiot Colin, sooner or later."
"Follow me."
The trio exchanged a look. That comment... was loaded.
They followed Draco. Hermione (as Goyle) asked, "Is the Heir of Slytherin going to... 'take care' of him?"
"Ah, that's a certainty," Draco said smugly. "That Scar-head, who loves hanging around with Mudbloods... he definitely won't escape."
They entered the boys' dormitory. Draco flopped onto his bed, fished around underneath, and pulled out several bottles, tossing them to the trio.
"Try it. The newest 'Dragon's Blood Muscle Potion.' Much better than the last batch."
Harry and Hermione drank. Ron, however, hesitated, afraid this potion "would pollute his pure, natural physique." Seeing Draco staring, he clenched his teeth and swallowed it.
Draco drank one himself. "How is it?"
"Excellent!" Hermione (as Goyle) flexed, flattering him. "You really have your ways, Draco. I bet even Dumbledore would have a hard time getting this."
Ron nodded vigorously. "That's right! Thanks to Draco! He's done so much for Slytherin House."
The two ofThe two of them, singing in harmony, puffed Draco up with pride, until he was floating and didn't know where he was.
Hermione, seeing the time was right, added more fuel. "Crabbe, don't be stupid. Draco isn't just strong; his magic is deep."
"On the dueling stage... that curse he used to take out that Weasley red-head... I'd never even heard of it."
Ron (as Crabbe) gritted his teeth. "Yeah! That despicable, insidious, vile Weasley... you flattened him with one spell!"
"Oh, that was nothing." Draco crossed his legs, growing smugger. "I know much more."
"But where did you learn it all?" Hermione pressed. "Is it your family's ancestral magic?"
Draco, completely full of himself, shook his head. "No. I actually learned it... from a senior."
Hermione's eyes lit up. A second person is involved!
No wonder the Basilisk could attack Colin while Malfoy was in detention!
She asked, "Which senior is so powerful?"
Draco glanced at her, full of arrogance. "Oh, his name is Tom Riddle. You've probably never heard of him."
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